


As Worlds Spin

by RyuuSiren7



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alternate endings and extra oneshots, Angst and Humor, BAMF Byakuran, BAMF Gokudera Hayato, BAMF Sawada Tsunayoshi, BAMF Superbi Squalo, But not until his chapter, Byakuran has an obsession with something other than marshmallows (it's Tsuna), Chapter One: Squalo, Chapter Two: Byakuran, Companion fic to "To Save A World", Don't take Byakuran's toys, Gallows Humor, Gen, Kawahira has to clean up their messes, Messing with the Varia is a Bad Idea, Messing with the Vongola in general is also a Bad Idea, No one cares about the time space continuum, REALLY BAMF Gokudera Hayato, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2018-11-01 10:02:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10919550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyuuSiren7/pseuds/RyuuSiren7
Summary: There are an infinite number of possibilities for everything in life (especially when time travel is involved).Chapter One, Requiem Rain:  In which Squalo's time traveling skills are just fine, but his knowledge of the timeline isn't. He somehow ends up with a violent Mist partner-in-crime and two apprentices with white and red hair, and a penchant for insanity.A companion story featuring alternate endings, one-shots, spin offs, what could have beens, etc., from my fic To Save A World. Generally not as angsty. Probably. CAN BE READ STAND ALONE.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [To Save a World](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10837257) by [RyuuSiren7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyuuSiren7/pseuds/RyuuSiren7). 



> In which Squalo's time traveling skills are just fine, but his knowledge of the timeline isn't. He somehow ends up with a violent Mist partner-in-crime and two apprentices with white and red hair, and a penchant for insanity.

* * *

 

He would save his shitty boss - all of Varia, hell all of Vongola (because no matter what, the Varia is - was - loyal, loyal to their Famiglia, their family, those that earned their respect… that naive brat, _Tsunayoshi_ …)-

For nothing can stop the requiem rain, crying for its fallen fellows and slaughtering the enemy, crashing over them and pulling them down into the inky blue depths…

With his dying will, he'd save his world...

Voi.

* * *

He was too late.

He had sent Dino ahead with Tsunayoshi and Hibari, staying behind to stand against Kikyo and Zakuro himself. Kikyo had vanished near the start of the battle, likely off to follow Byakuran's orders like the lapdogs the Funeral Wreaths were (albeit violent, skilled lapdogs…), leaving the Storm Wreath to face Squalo by himself. Squalo had nearly been defeated in an instant, almost losing his prosthetic sword hand to the other's skill and raging, red _red **red**_ storm flames.

However, he wasn't the Varia and resistance's strategic commander for nothing. While working with the naive brat, they had developed a new style, a perfect mix of the Shigure Soen Ryu and Squalo styles. The crimson haired storm had been surprised, off balance for just half a second -

and that's all Squalo had needed.

The inverted rain had _moved_ , seeming to vanish and reappear in a flash in front of the other, his flames so unlike the relaxed, calming aura of the typical rain, instead broiling and crashing with promises of tsunamis and tragedy, of drowning and death, as his sword lit up in bright, brilliant blue and doused the flames of the storm for good.

But none of it mattered because-

He.

Was.

Too.

_Late._

* * *

The grass was stained red.

Corpses littered the forest floor, forever faceless soldiers of both the Millefiore and Vongola, covering every inch of earth like bizarre plants, mangled limbs sticking out at odd angles, begging for the healing light of a sun that would never reach them. Lifeblood, still warm and blindingly, brilliantly red, seeped into the grass, killing the actual plants and dying their remains in crimson and, in time, a copper brown not dissimilar to the ground into which the precious liquid seeped. Those few plants that survived would forever have traces of red in their trunks and leaves, eternal living reminders of the bodies which nourished them and the lives that were lost.

A glorious feast for the scavengers that circled above, their squawks and shrill cries eerily reminiscent of the tragedy that had happened just an hour or so before.

Squalo stumbled through the carnage, his mind numb as he walked, ignorant and uncaring of the bodies he trampled over and tripped on in his single-minded determination.

"VOOOIIIIIIIII! Where the hell are you, you shitty boss? Bel? Luss? Hell, Levi? I swear to God, if you're dead, _I'm going to kill_ -" Squalo stopped, unable to move as he heard something crunch beneath his boots, not the snapping of bones, but the shatter of glass that he had heard only a couple times before. Looking down, Squalo moved slowly, staring at the black rims and tinted, shattered lenses that lied beneath his boot.

_Lussuria's sunglasses._

The Rain tore through the bodies littering the field as thunder crashed in the distance, not stopping until he caught sight of that familiar, electric green hair near the edge of the clearing. Squalo kneeled next to his fallen teammate, hearing his heart hammering in his chest as he took in the blood stains trailing down the Sun's mouth, the red that stained his precious clothes in various places, and the bullet holes that had caused them. The Sun's expression was annoyed, pained - an expression the other wore only when he was frustrated with his own failure at something.

The silverette, quiet for once, wiped the crimson liquid from his brother in all but blood's face as best he could, lifting the other's body gently _(as gently as someone like him, could)_ as he continued onward, searching for the rest of his broken family - _because they were more than that, more than just a Famiglia_ \- his eyes seemingly blank, if one ignored the roaring waves that crashed just behind them.

"Don't think I'm doing this because I want to, Voi! I bet you'd come back just to haunt me if I left you there, Luss, because it wasn't fabulous enough to your liking, am I right?" the loudest member of the mafia rambled as he trudged through the forest-turned-graveyard, black boots squelching in the coppery red mud and slipping slightly in the somehow also sticky blood.

Finally, he reached the main clearing, and Squalo's world ended.

There, in the center, lied Tsunayoshi, seemingly embracing Byakuran in a cruel stroke of irony, each with their fist through the other's heart.

Squalo could see - hell, he could practically smell - the Vongola brat's tears from here. He always had been too soft ( _too soft for this life, for the mafia, those beautiful, vast Sky flames forever extinguished by the cruelness ever-present in the dregs of humanity, in the Underworld that was never meant to touch the sky)._

Nearer, and even more heartbreaking, was **_his Sky_** , Xanxus's lips twisted in that oh so common, furious, pained snarl that screamed, _roared_ , of loss, of pain and power and that burning, searing determination that had made him follow his shitty boss in the first place, _the best damn Sky he could ever ask for_ -

Empty, now. The once glaring eyes staring blankly at the broiling, storming, _wrathful_ sky that they had emulated so well.

Squalo fell to his knees, hardly conscious of gently laying down Lussuria, his once beaming and now dull Sun next to his Sky that could only ever be calm in death. The mud squelched and stuck to his knees as the Varia Rain rested his hand over the hole in Xanxus' chest, as though he could seal it closed himself, as if he was a Sun that could heal and bring back the dead, rather than the Rain that washed away the aftermath. He didn't close the dim, crimson eyes, instead leaving them frozen up at the sky, staring defiantly to the very end. It would be a disservice to the memory of his boss to close them, as though the other had shut his eyes in fear, in _acceptance_ , of the end.

Hours later, after the cold rain had seeped into his aching bones and the saturated ground finally stained his pants a light, coppery red from the mixture of blood and clear water that washed the crimson from the corpses, Squalo stood up, heading back into the battlefield. He found Levi next, near to his boss even in death. The silverette lifted the much taller man with ease, lying the Thunder guardian at the feet of his Sky, where he belonged - no matter how much the entire Varia had sneered and needled him for it.

Mammon was long dead, killed by Byakuran for the power of the Tri-Ni-Sette and the power the Arcobaleno wielded. That left their youngest members, Belphegor and Fran, still just a child in comparison to the rest of them.

They were farthest from the rest, having fallen sooner despite their genius and ferociousness and the sheer _fearlessness_ that made them Varia Quality. Fran was curled up at the base of a tree, his face painted in unfamiliar grief. Bel was in front, obviously having fallen trying to protect his "Frog," his little Varia brother. In the distance, Squalo spied the unmistakable indigo trail of Mukuro's hair. The mist had likely gotten distracted trying to save his apprentice and ally, and been struck down in that instant.

Two more bodies joined Xanxus's as Squalo laid down his quiet, still Storm and faded Mist.

He hesitated.

Turning to the center of the field, Squalo trudged forward again, gently, _oh so carefully_ , lifting the innocent young Sky off of the corrupted ocean that had stolen the life and love from his eyes. Several yards from Xanxus, Squalo lied down Tsunayoshi, letting the last generation of Vongola rest together. He went out, finding each of Tsuna's guardians and lying them down, next to their fallen sky.

Mukuro, who had fallen trying to save one of his so-called "pawns," his friend and apprentice.

Chrome, her sole eye wide and empty, staring forever into empty space as she lay with her fingers curled tight around her trident, the last thing that had connected her to her twin Mist before her life, too, was cruelly cut short.

The naive brat, Takeshi, his swords littering the ground around him, almost as plentiful as the Millefiore bodies surrounding him. A single bullet hole in his forehead. _Damn snipers._

Ryohei, too loud and too kind and too brave and _too, too bright_ , dead in a protective embrace, covering the body of Tsunayoshi's lightning guardian, the small child soaked in a red that should never have touched his black-and-white cow ensemble, as well as the Chinese girl, Fon's apprentice, better suited to the bright and lucky shades of crimson than the copper of blood.

Hibari, the seemingly undefeatable cloud, lied on his back, killed by a lucky scratch from a poisoned blade. Bianchi and Dino _(his oldest friend, his confidante, his childhood brother in arms that had stuck with him through everything-)_ were both nearby, having fought to the death to protect the fallen Skylark. He brought all three of them back.

Gokudera - or what was left of him. It had taken Squalo the longest to find the Storm guardian, _likely because of how little was left to be found._ It was evident that by the time Gokudera had died, Tsuna already had or was well on his way, because the bomber had shown no restraint, blowing himself up and taking out more than 40 of the Millefiore with him in that one move.

Sapped of what little strength he'd had to begin with, Squalo collapsed next to the cold body of his boss, feeling his eyes slip closed and bone-deep exhaustion settle in, his breath shuddering in his chest as he hacked and shivered, teeth clacking from the cold of night and the liquid that had soaked through his clothes. He was tired, _so tired_ , his family dead, his Famiglia gone, and-

Squalo's eyes snapped open.

_If a machine could bring people forward in time, why couldn't it send **him** back?_

* * *

Squalo wasn't a mechanics prodigy like Spanner or Shoichi. Hell, he wasn't even a genius like Gokudera or Belphegor.

But still.

He was _Squalo Superbia._ Sword Emperor, Varia Rain, boss candidate, tactical commander for both the Varia and, after Tsunayoshi's death, the Vongola and allied forces in their entireties. He grinned as a whirring sound staggered into being, lights flickering and smoke billowing as time ripped apart and permitted him entry.

He was the Requiem Rain, and with his dying will, _he would save his world._

* * *

* * *

* * *

 His world was over.

_Was._

Not even time had stopped the requiem rain, unable to halt its drenching, overpowering onslaught. But compared to the ocean sky, even the furious rain was nothing.

And so, the requiem rain recruited the tangible mist, and, with the weight of their skies, their entire worlds, on their shoulders, they'll slaughter anything and anyone that threatens what they believe in.

* * *

Squalo woke up to the patter of rain on his face.

The sword emperor pushed himself up, gritting his teeth as his bones creaked and entire body protested the movement, the dried blood still coating his stiff, damp clothes and causing them to crackle with each breath. Clambering to his feet, Squalo used his sword (the least bloody part of him, _how ironic was that?_ ) as a support, surveying his surroundings. The area around him was all forest - evidently, the building the time machine was in had yet to be built.

A good sign.

Suddenly, Squalo froze-

he had been so focused on getting to the past, he had never thought about what to do once he got there.

How was he supposed to beat Byakuran - even a lesser powered version - on his own?

_Shit._

* * *

The answer occurred to the Varia Rain as he was fleeing from the Millefiore guards that had caught him spying.

_I really wish I had a Mist right now._

He ducked under a branch and picked up speed, pebbles clattering as dirt gave way and he slid effortlessly down a hill,continuing the pondering his idle thought had triggered. He couldn't go to the Varia - at this point, Xanxus' retrieval from the ice was still fairly recent, and the entire assassination was even more trigger happy than usual in defense of their long awaited Sky. Even if they believed him, they would barge in with weapons blazing and, as much as Squalo hated to admit it, dealing with Byakuran required a subtler touch (though a no less cruel one). Besides, Mammon, despite being an Arcobaleno, was not the most powerful Mist.

That was Mukuro Rokudo.

The cries of the guards were faint in the distance, now, unable to keep up with the highly experience assassin as he ran, using all obstacles in his way as stepping stones instead. Fallen trunks gave him leverage to push farther ahead in his jumps, and tangled vines were used as push off points from above the ground or handholds to swing himself faster.

Finally, after another hour of running (because at this point, too much was riding on him to be careless), the rain slowed to a stop in a dense patch of trees. The bark under his skin was rough as he gripped it tightly, scaling the tallest as high as the branches could safely support him and lying there, staring up at the sky.

And so, the greatest mafia tactician that had ever lived planned. How do you convince someone who wants to destroy the mafia to _save it_? Illusionists were too tricky, especially one of the damn pineapple's caliber. There was no way Squalo - whose every action and very flames raged and broiled with pure resolve and _intent_ \- could fool him. At this point, Rokudo had been half of Tsunayoshi's mist set for nearly two years, which meant that he had at least partly harmonized.

On the other hand, the genocidal Mist's actual body was still in Vendicare.

Theoretically, he could use Chrome as a conduit, but Squalo had seen the difference with his own eyes, and handicaps could not be afforded. Taking out his phone - which had somehow survived the battle and following events - Squalo dialed the number he had hoped to never call again.

"Voi! Care to make a deal?"

* * *

When the ancient phone in his office rang, Bermuda could only blink in disbelief. No one called the Vindice. _No one. Ever._ Jager looked up from where he was flipping through old records in the corner, looking at his boss questioningly. Bermuda only nodded, signalling for Jager to answer. The voice that crackled through the old, black spin-phone was quieter and inexplicably older than he had ever heard it, but still unmistakably that of the loudest mafia member's.

"Voi! Care to make a deal?"

Bermuda felt himself become more and more intrigued as the Sword Emperor continued, spinning a tale of a future drenched in red, of the mafia torn apart and ripped at the seams, of a world that was out of control up until the very moment it ended, not in fire, but in rain and rivers of blood. Eventually, Squalo Superbia finished his tale, and the Vindice waited for him to get to the reason for the call - and surely it wasn't just to inform them of time travel and apocalyptic futures.

"You give me Mukuro Rokudo, and promise his freedom for the rest of his life, and we'll eliminate Byakuran ourselves."

Bermuda and Jager shared a look. Mukuro Rokudo's body was required to trap Daemon, but-

Surely, there had been a reason for them to not get involved in the bloodiest war of mafia history. Which meant one of two things: either Checkerface had been involved, or… _Byakuran_ had somehow forced them to stay out of it.

Neither option sat well with the Vindice.

"You have yourself a deal, Requiem Rain."

* * *

_In reality, the Vindice of the future were just so done dealing with the mafia's shit that they didn't bother, hoping the entire mafia would be destroyed and they could take a vacation from idiots._

_Squalo left that out._

* * *

The first thing Mukuro saw when he woke up was the sky. He stared, unblinkingly, for what seemed like hours, but was probably only minutes at most. The scent of fresh grass after rain hung in the air, and when he curled his fingers, they scraped earth and he could feel the dirt push up against his hands, the scratchy blades of grass crumpling beneath his palm.

"Voi! You gonna talk or not, Mist? You better not be broken after the trade I made to get you!" A foot hit his side - not lightly, but not enough to send him rolling. Heterochromatic eyes met grey-tinted green, and Mukuro started to laugh.

"VOI! Listen up, Mist scum! Yes, I'm from the ten years later future. No, it's not from the bazooka." Mukuro fell silent, eying the caked blood that still remained, and the permanent copper stained into the uniform. "Here's the deal. Everyone's dead, including Vongola, Varia, you, your Mist twin, Tsunayoshi, and everyone else you know... Save the Vindice trash."

Mukuro was deadly serious now, sitting up even though his atrophied muscles protested the movement, reinforcing himself with illusions as he stood. "What does this have to do with me?" Crimson and deep indigo flashed, while the Varia rain just stared at him coolly.

"You trying to tell me you're not harmonized with them? Voi! I can feel Tsunayoshi's flames still lingering on yours." True enough, Mukuro could feel the brilliant, searing Sky, flames pressed against his own cool Mist, wrapped in a warm, comforting embrace.

"Here's the deal, Mist trash. You're the best damn illusionist not on the side of Byakuran that I know of, as much as I hate to admit it. I made a deal with the Vindice - you're free, permanently, so long as you help me kill the Gesso trash. I'll slice them up with or without you, so don't think it won't happen just because of you. Are you in?"

A dark, sinister smirk curled along the Mist's lips, and dual colored fire blazed in his eyes as his illusions settled in, him standing tall on his own two feet for the first time in years.

"A chance to destroy mafia _scum_? Of course."

And so the devil made a deal.

_(No one was quite sure who the devil was.)_

* * *

They attacked during a thunderstorm.

Mukuro's illusions shielded them from the rain and allowed them to see clearly despite the overcast sky and drenching downfall. The heavy rain had made a fog roll in from the nearby lake, and it was dark enough that no one (else) could see past their arm.

They were in their elements.

Shadowy vapors of predators and monsters swirled in the mist, attacking any and all Millefiore soldiers with extreme prejudice, leaving their mangled and bloody corpses, stretching futilely towards their sky, before the mist swallowed them up for good. The rain blinded the White Spells, lying to them that no one was there, the pinging droplets echoing, surrounding them and tricking their ears. Even scent was washed away by the water.

With Mukuro's illusions also cloaking them, making them fully invisible, they sliced through everyone in their path, making their way to the Gesso boss' bedroom, and slipping inside, blades drawn in order to finish what would now never start-

They froze.

A young boy, not looking a day over 14, stood trembling in the corner, and cowering behind him was another teenager, this one with red hair and round glasses, hugging a laptop to his chest. In front of them were the Cervello, pink hair and goggles seeming oddly menacing as they flashed from the sporadic lightning strikes that shone in from outside the window. In their hands, the Mare ring.

Squalo surged forward, blade thrusting forward, stabbing one Cervello straight through. He was already swirling forward, blade sliding out easily and slicing the other Cervello's arm as she jumped back, only to stagger in shock with the bang of a gunshot. The pink haired woman slumped forward, dead.

Squalo and Mukuro both turned to a wide eyed Byakuran, who was holding a gun in his trembling hands.

Well, that was unexpected.

As it turned out, the Byakuran at this point in time was a fairly normal civilian with absolutely no knowledge of the mafia and no plans of world domination.

Which, to be honest, was kind of a let down.

* * *

The four were in the Gesso heir's room (which, as it turned out, was actually pretty much his cell, because the Cervello had _kidnapped him, what the hell_?) The two younger teens were staring in terror at their blood splattered companions, who were whispering heatedly in the corner with occasional outbreaks of "VOOOOIIIII!" and "Kufufufufu."

Finally, the two turned, both glaring at the two huddled against the headboard of the bed.

"VOOIIIIIIII! Listen up, trash! You!" The silver haired assassin pointed angrily at Byakuran. "Since apparently Mr. Let's-Massacre-Everyone-And-Take-Over-The-World over here has either gained a new set of morals from Tsunayoshi or thinks you'd be a fun plaything, either way, you get to live. But now that the Cervello have found you once, they can find you again, got it?!"

Byakuran eeped.

Sighing disgustedly - because seriously, _what had the world come to, him sparing the one that had **killed** his famiglia, currently innocent or not_ \- Squalo shook his long, silver hair out of his face, feeling their light brush against his cheek as the sleek strands slipped away, revealing his other, glaring eye the color of a rainstorm before a tornado.

"VOI! Shut up! In order to prevent you two from becoming chew toys for the damn pink haired freaks - yes, both of you, since you know him and were a witness - I'll be taking the two of you on as my apprentices while the pineapple bastard takes care of the cover up."

Shoichi's stomach ache was finally too much for the poor redhead to take, and he passed out, closely followed by his white haired friend.

Squalo gave up.

* * *

Mukuro and Squalo parted ways, the Mist never revealing how he had been released from Vendicare, and the Rain sticking to the shadows and the fog that lurked there. It wasn't until many years later that the two met again.

* * *

A new mercenary group had been rising quickly in the ranks of the Underworld, calling themselves Chronos, or Time.

The Vongola tenth generation and Varia had teamed up to investigate. They thought they had found the location of the group, only to find themselves waist deep in a battle between the Triads and the Vongola's largest rival group, the Corvio.

Basically, they were stuck between a rock and a hard place in a sea of blood.

The two groups were taking cover in an as-of-yet undiscovered room, Ryohei and Lussuria healing everyone as best they could while reserving their flames. Blood soaked clothes, and no one had escaped at least a couple potentially debilitating injuries. So, Mukuro made a call.

"Kufufufu, Chronos, is it? The Vongola and Varia are in danger. Corvio base."

With that, the violent Mist hung up, unmindful of the stares he was receiving from his companions.

"VOOIIIIIIIII!" Squalo whisper-yelled, still the loudest, even when they were hiding from the enemy. "You've had contact with the Chronos this whole time? We're in this mess for no reason, then, you stupid pineapple bastard!"

"That was pretty dumb, Senpai," chimed in Fran from where he was resting in the corner, one bright eye half closed from bruising as sweat-and-blood matted green hair stuck to his forehead.

Mukuro said nothing, simply smiled creepily.

They were found shortly after, back in the throng of battle. Luckily, they didn't have to fight long.

Suddenly, every electronic-based software in the building - including weapons - suddenly shut down, unresponsive no matter what their users did. No one was fighting at this point, simply staring at each other in confusion. Mukuro was chuckling, creating illusion clones of himself and practically herding everyone into a corner.

"We're in for quite a show, kufufufu. Watch."

Just as he said that, brilliant orange Sky flames blasted down the entrance (along with the front wall), burning anyone near them.

"Voi! Watch where you aim those things, scum!" Everyone turned to Lambo automatically, but the young teenager simply shook his head frantically. As they turned back to the battle, they saw an older teenager, likely around 19, sniping their opponents with handfuls of Sky flames, floating near the ceiling with - were those _wings?_ \- sprouting from his back. On the ground, though, was where the real fighting was happening.

Flashes of quicksilver were visible from the mass of panicking mafia members, some attempting to fight back, while others fled. In short time, everyone had either escaped or fallen to the bloody blade of the newcomer, whose long silver hair reached his knees, even though it was pulled up and out of his face in a high ponytail, several strands dropping down in front of his eye. A long trench coat reached his knees, shiny black leather gleaming even in the dim lighting as the grey furred hood and collar rubbed against a pale cheek. The figure sighed, turning slowly and revealing the face of someone who was unmistakably Squalo, though a great deal older.

"VOI! You damn Mist, calling us in for small fry like this?" Mukuro smirked and shrugged, watching as the other's eyes flicked over their figures, taking in the exhaustion in their stances and blood spattered clothes, coming to the same conclusion that Mukuro himself had - they would have won, but at least one likely would have died, or been permanently injured.

"Shark trash…?" Xanxus rumbling voice was subdued for once, taking in the sight of an older version of his Rain with something resembling disbelief and horror. The figure in front of them sighed as he was joined by two others, one flying down from the ceiling and landing lightly, dressed in a similar outfit but in shades of lavender and white, while another walked in from outside, laptop in hand, in an ensemble of red and brown.

"I go by Chronos now, shitty boss. These two are my no-good apprentices, Byakuran and Shoichi. It's been a while."


	2. Past the Horizon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ocean and the all-encompassing sky were always meant to touch. But the ocean was weighed down, burdened by the secrets hidden in its deep and the chaos brimming within. With every passing moment, the ocean sank deeper and deeper within itself, all the while reflecting the sky above to raise it even higher.
> 
> So, the sky reached down and met the ocean itself, intermixing on the horizon until two become one. And where they met, reality blossomed into brilliant colors and a Perfect World was created.
> 
> Night fell and covered the colors, and the Perfect World went unrealized. But the sun rose again, and with it, the world sparked into perfection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it has come to my attention that some people want to strangle me for the open ending I left on Ocean Sky. Well, I REGRET NOTHING. That is open-ended for you to take however you will. However, since Ocean Sky was originally supposed to be happy and fluffy (my hands betrayed me sorry not sorry), I’ll gift you guys with this fluffy little “What happened after?” story. Is this what actually happened after the events in TSAW? Maybe. Maybe not. That’s up to you, the reader, to decide.
> 
> Also, this has not been through beta yet, sorry folks. But my beta is busy and you all have been amazing with your reviews so I just couldn't wait any longer. XD Enjoy!
> 
> WARNINGS: Just fluff and general Vongola wackiness this time, guys. …Probably.

* * *

  _“For the sake of protecting my comrades_

_For the sake of protecting my loved ones…”_

-Katekyou Ondo (Tsuna, Reborn, and Guardians character song)

 

_“Well, what will be the next move? Give me enjoyment more and more_

_I’ll show you the new world too”_

-PARADE (Byakuran Character Song)

* * *

_Previously..._

 

_A brunette in a freshly pressed black suit and orange tie was searching the city for someone, though for whom, the people did not know. But there was something off about him, something that pulled you closer despite everything inside of you screaming to run away and never look back._

_It was familiar._

_So they directed him towards the sign and told him to wait until night. The short man did as he was instructed, and, upon approaching, saw a figure with eyes trained on the sky and black wings spread behind him._

_"...Why haven't you come back… haven't at least let us know...?"_

_"Silly Tsuna-chan. There's no place for someone like me in your Perfect World."_

_The figure turned and jumped off the sign, landing lightly in a crouch and walking away without looking back._

_"...How can a world be perfect without the night sky, its other half?"_

_Amethyst eyes opened and looked up, watching the orange light creep across the black canvas of the night sky. The figure paused and looked back._

_"Ara… you always were more perceptive than I gave you credit for, Tsuna."_

* * *

The two stood in silence, both watching each other carefully. Finally, the Vongola Don spoke.

“Just so you know, Byaku-nii, that if you try to take even one more step away from me, I will blast over there and drag you back to Namimori myself.” A single white eyebrow arched in amusement as the Ocean Sky lifted his foot.

“You promise?”

“I swear.”

Byakuran took a step back.

* * *

 “Ts-Tsuna?! BYAKU-NII?” Shoichi Irie stared in shock at the two Skies that had just stumbled into his lab. Something (probably expensive) clattered to the ground behind him as his overly-curious lab-mates, Spanner and the Arcobaleno Verde, both rolled into the background on their wheeled chairs to eavesdrop on the drama.

“Ah… it’s good to see you again, Sho-chan.” Byakuran lifted his head weakly to beam at the redhead, despite the scorch marks, dirt, bruises, and general appearance of someone who has been ran over by a train on fire. Repeatedly. The Sun barely spared a second to stare at the black hair and clothes before rushing over, Flames glowing softly as he healed both Byakuran and the almost-spotless but exhausted Tsuna.

The two Skies sank to the floor in exhaustion only to whine in protest as Shoichi activated their muscles and puppet-marched them all the way to the infirmary with his Sun Flames. He wanted answers _by ten years ago_ , but first, he had to make sure the two lived long enough to give him those answers.

Murmured whispers of awe and confusion followed the trio down the hallway, and the dialing of phones and pounding of feet was enough of a warning that the other members of Vongola main would be there shortly.

Ryohei was waiting for them at the entrance, his face stern and almost blank as he hauled both to the beds and checked them over without speaking. Byakuran and Tsuna were being clingy, neither letting go of the other even as the Vongola Sun forcefully shoved his way in between to check their injuries.

The door banged open, rattling before the hinges gave in and the heavy piece of steel fell on the polished tiled floors with a resounding crash. Mukuro strode in like he owned the room, souls of the occupants, building, and the entire country, high boots clacking sharply in the quiet room as the spinning of his trident created a whirring buzz in the still air. Chrome followed in after sheepishly, her own trident out and held as though to guard off Mukuro’s if his fingers slipped.

(It wouldn’t be the first time the older Mist had caused injuries to himself and others while trying to be “cool.” Any Sun in the building – possibly all of Italy – could testify to that.)

More and more people trickled in, the Varia somehow phasing into existence on the far wall and clearly just there to enjoy the show. The Arcobaleno, still trapped in their baby forms, popped up in random spots throughout the room: Verde with Spanner as the blonde rolled in, still on his wheeled chair from the lab; Mammon on top of Belphegor’s head, Colonello from the air vents, Lal Mirch exited a potted plant, Reborn strolled through a tunnel that opened in the wall, Skull dropped in from a removed ceiling tile, and Fon flew in from the window. Enma and the rest of the Shimon snuck in at some point, and Dino was leading Byakuran’s Guardians (who had named themselves his Funeral Wreaths at the Ocean Sky’s funeral) in through the front doorway, like a sane person. (Which he wasn’t, but he was the best at pretending, much to the rest of Italy’s horror.)

“NIIIIIIII-SSAAAAAANNNNN!” Everyone quickly got out of the way as a teenaged Lambo came racing through, jump tackling the two Skies on the bed and sobbing into their shirts. Something broke in Byakuran’s expression as the Ocean Sky closed his eyes, resting his forehead against the young Lightning’s. When he opened his eyes again, they shone with unshed tears.

“Sorry for making you wait, everyone.” The other Vongola Guardians arrived just in time to hear those words, and all of them stilled. The growing silence was interrupted by the Vongola Cloud as he pulled out two gleaming tonfa. Everyone present tensed for a fight, only to blink when Hibari Kyoya, the feared demon of Namimori (and the world), threw his weapons at Byakuran, each barely grazing him before the cold and violent carnivore threw _himself_ onto the bed.

Lambo scrambled in between the two Skies as Hibari stretched out, resting his head on Byakuran’s lap and using his own jacket as a blanket. “You owe me spars, foolish carnivore.” With that, the feared Cloud closed his eyes to take a nap and ignored the stunned silence in the room.

“Ara, I suppose I deserve that. As you wish, Kyo-kun.” The other man merely grunted before his breathing evened out and his chest rose and fell in the steady rhythm of sleep. The others in the room traded anxious or annoyed glances in turn. How were they supposed to get their answers when any movement would wake the fight-happy Hibari?

After several more moments of uncertain waiting, Shoichi nodded to himself and marched up to Byakuran, ignoring the twitch of Hibari’s shoulders. The Sun placed one hand on the once-white hair and smiled at his Sky’s surprised face. Soft yellow illuminated the room as Shoichi flared his Flames, and slowly Byakuran’s Night Flames rose to the call.

The yellow intertwined with the black, and everywhere it touched the dark blaze turned yellow to match the Sun Flames. The other Funeral Wreaths stepped forward one by one, each adding their Flames until the room was awash with colors. Green sparked from Lambo’s fingers, and the blaze on the bed shone every color but orange. With a grin, Tsuna rested his head on Byakuran’s shoulder and the Flames shown not just black, but every color of the Sky.

Slowly, the Flames swirled and mixed, the Sky Flames harmonizing with the others until Byakuran was a mix of white and orange. The tips of his hair lightened and returned to white, unevenly spreading up until the black hair was streaked thoroughly.

Shoichi nodded again. “You know, with the whole white, black, and orange scheme going on, you look like a Halloween skeleton.” Byakuran blinked in shock before laughing brightly at the other’s comment, only to be cut off with a gasp as Kyoya jabbed the Night Sky in the stomach without even opening his eyes.

Others in the room trickled out, disappointed in the lack of drama. Mammon handed the newly returned Sky a bill before floating out, and eventually, the only ones remaining were the Vongola Guardians, Funeral Wreaths, and Reborn.

Byakuran smiled as he laid back, feeling Kyo-kun shift restlessly and curl around the taller Sky much like a cat. Lambo remained squished between them, having fallen asleep earlier after being exhausted by crying. Tsuna and Byakuran’s eyes met, and the two Skies smiled at each other as the Vongola Decimo followed the other’s examples and settled back to go to sleep. Shoichi huffed in amusement before forcing his way in, sparing a moment to be very glad that the Vongola infirmary had such large beds (that had been ordered specifically because they got clingy when one of theirs was injured) as he leaned against Byakuran’s free side.

Reborn scoffed at the dog-pile of mafiosos, but everyone knew that it was really a fond laugh. The remaining Flame users settled into white-sheeted beds and chosen spots throughout the empty room, all of them truly smiling for the first in what seemed like years. With a shot from his Leon-gun, Reborn flicked the light switch off and hopped down next to Tsuna, who grinned over at him in the dark. With that, the serial killers, assassins, mafioso, and world rulers fell into a peaceful sleep.

Outside, colors spread across the black of the sky as the sun slowly rose.

(Leon shifted into a hook and pulled the curtains closed hurriedly. No need to wake the tired mafioso, especially his hitman. Besides, they all looked so cute sleeping together! The green shape-shifting chameleon snickered to himself as he crawled back to his hitman’s fedora and settled in to rest. But not before taking some pictures in his other form. There was no way he was letting anyone forget this.)

* * *

Byakuran woke up with his face smashed into a pillow, drool making a wet spot on his shoulder, and too hot with at least three bodies covering him and two more pressed against his side.

It was wonderful after being alone for so long, but that didn’t make it any more comfortable.

The Night Sky shifted slightly, searching for escape only to pause at the disapproving, grumbling purr from on top of him. Yeah, that was Kyo-kun alright… and he was the one on top of Byakuran’s legs. He sighed and smashed his face back into his pillow as the one drooling on his shoulder slipped down slightly, a head of curly black hair coming into view. Lambo accounted for, then. The hand hanging in front of his vision, proudly bearing the Mare Sun ring, proved that Shoichi was the one taking up the majority of his back and cutting off blood flow to his right arm. With some careful maneuvering, Byakuran managed to lift his head high enough to peer over Lambo’s without disrupting the others. He was greeted with the spiky, fluffy brown hair and peaceful sleeping face of his Tsu-kun. With a grin, Byakuran laid back down only to freeze.

Who was on his left?

After several moments of internal debate, Byakuran was about to suffer the consequences and get up to find out the identity of the last person when a pale, long-fingered hand liberated his own from under Kyo-kun. “Kufufufu, good morning, By-a-kur-an~” The drowsy Sky huffed a laugh as the body to his left somehow slid under the still shifting, grumbling Cloud to play with his black and white hair.

“Good morning to you too, Mu-kun~” The mist snickered, twining his Flames around the others. Both Mist and Night Sky relaxed at the feel of the other’s Flames after so long, spending a moment in drowsy peace before Mukuro snickered mischievously. Byakuran raised an eyebrow as the other leaned in to speak.

“Behold, chaos.”

With that, Mukuro drew back his leg and kicked the sleeping Cloud in the side.

Kyo-kun shot up with a snarl, tackling the cackling Mist as Mukuro rolled off the side of the bed to escape, landing with a thunk before shooting up and dancing away. With a whirl of his coat and brandishing of two shiny tonfa, Kyo-kun gave chase.

Byakuran’s bedmates woke up with groans and grumbles at the movement, only to groan even louder in frustration at the realization of what was happening. A strike of tonfa to the steel wall made a dent with a resounding clang, and the rest of the Guardians were forced to wake up in moments in order to scramble out of the way of pointy weapons and clashing limbs.

A gunshot rang out through the room, and everyone froze as they looked up.

Reborn, one eye visible behind his tilted fedora, glowered down at them, a smoking Leon-gun in hand. “Ciaossu… you woke me up.” The Cloud and Mist shifted in anticipation, side-eying each other for a moment before nodding simultaneously and racing out of the room. Reborn followed after on a Leon-fighter jet, fully equipped with a small country’s artillery.

“…Is it always so eventful with you all?” Byakuran’s pillow-muffled voice rang through the room, followed by laughter from Ryohei and Takeshi and a pitiful whine from his Tsu-kun.

“I don’t mind chaos, but you don’t _understand,_ Byaku-nii. Those two are _morning people._ By 8 am, the mansion will be a war zone. Then, instead of doing paperwork, Kyo-kun just sleeps everywhere! _Why does he not sleep in the morning if he’s so tired?_ Mukuro just disappears!” Sitting up and pouting, Tsu-kun glanced over to Chrome. “And you won’t tell me where he goes!”

Chrome shrugged her petite shoulders, standing up smoothly as a flare of Mist Flames formed a suit and skirt for her to wear. Ken and Chikusa stumbled up from the corner they had fallen asleep in, shaking their limbs to get feeling back into them as Ken yawned loudly and stretched.

“Sorry Bossu, but we don’t know where he goes either. We’ve given up on trying to contain Mukuro-sama.” The two somewhat zombified mafioso nodded behind the purple haired girl in agreement.

Tsu-kun just sighed and shook his head before pausing and peering at Chrome. “You do realize that those of us able to see through your illusions know that you’re still wearing pajamas, right? Why don’t you just use your _real illusions_?”

“These are more comfortable.” With that, Chrome glided elegantly out of the room, followed by Ken and Chikusa.

Tsu-kun groaned and flopped back on the soft mattress, curling up around the three remaining.

Haya-kun stretched from his spot on the bed to their right, standing fluidly and walking over with the sort of lazy grace only geniuses can manage, poking Tsu-kun on the shoulder.

“Jyuudaime, you have work to do.”

Tsu-kun groaned and grabbed the bomber’s hand, pulling him onto the bed next to them. Gokudera landed with an oompf as the Sky buried himself – and the rest of them in extension – under the covers, ignoring the still laughing Ryohei and Takeshi that decided to make themselves (more) at home and dive into the bed to join them.

With a venomous, derisive grumble of “Morning people,” Tsu-kun closed his eyes and went back to sleep. Byakuran chuckled softly, feeling the last of tension drain out of him as his eyes fluttered shut as well. They had problems to get through and explanations to give, but everything would be alright again.

(Reborn entered the room quietly and smirked. Half an hour more and then he’d wake them up Vongola Style - adorable little killers or no. Leon shifted into a camera without prompting, and the duo snapped enough photos to fill at least three of the blackmail photo-scrapbooks they were creating with Nana. It was a good day to be the World’s Greatest Hitman.)

* * *

They were eating breakfast, Tsu-kun half asleep in his cereal when the doors opened with a bang, Talbot and a man wearing a green yukata, circular glasses, and eating ramen entering the room. The Varia – who were supposed to be on their once a month mandated guard duty – followed behind curiously. Why would they stop someone from entering when it could be interesting?

Kyo-kun looked at his spoon, contemplating the force necessary to kill the loud, interrupting herbivores with it. The Cloud leaned back calmly, a knife quivering in the wood before him. (Tsu-kun’s frustrated cry of, “That’s mahogany!” was ignored.) Casually pulling out the knife and sending it back to the grinning owner, sharp grey eyes glanced down at the “IOU 1 Fight” scribbled on a sticky note and nodded in acceptance.

No one would be dying via spoon today.

Due to Kyo-kun, anyway.

(Probably.)

“Why did you not _immediately_ inform me that you had found someone with Night Flames?” Talbot looked like he wanted to strangle Tsu-kun, and glared more when the Sky shrugged.

The Vongola Decimo muttered something into his cereal, refusing to lift his face from the bowl. Ryohei leaned over and poked the other with a glowing yellow finger, activating the other’s Flames and pulling him from drowsiness.

With a sigh, the Sky sat up and took the offered napkin from Haya-kun to wipe the milk off his face. “We were busy. Why?”

Talbot threw his hands up to the ceiling, and even Kawahira spared a moment from eating ramen to glare disappointedly at Tsu-kun over his glasses. “ _Why_ he says! _Why?!_ Because Night Flames are the only thing left that we need to break the Tri-Ni-Set’s curse!”

The Arcobaleno not already present in the room popped in out of nowhere, emerging from walls and decorations and windows and thin air.

After several minutes of silence and staring, Skull finally spoke up. “Bitch say what?”

The wise, mysterious Vongola blacksmith groaned and buried his face in his hands.

* * *

After a round of coffee and espressos – green tea for Kyo-kun, picky and difficult to the last – Talbot found the strength to continue his explanation.

“Do you remember after the Arcobaleno trials that we had managed to come up with a cure for the Arcobaleno Curse?” Nods went around the room and even the Varia were listening quietly from where they had taken over one of the spare tables, sitting on it instead of the chairs for reasons Byakuran hadn’t cared to remember.

“Then surely you also remember the reason why we couldn’t implement the curse?” Awkward glances and shuffling answered Talbot’s questions as they refused to meet his eyes.

“Night Flames. We needed Night Flames. But the only Night Flame users had just been turned to stone by Vongola Decimo moments before.” Byakuran’s eyes widened. Tsu-kun had done that? He always knew the other Sky was powerful, but to turn the Vendice to stone… what a wonderful Sky he had.

Refocusing on the conversation, Byakuran found everyone staring at him as he tilted his head curiously. “I suppose that leaves me then, right? Well, what do we do?” The Arcobaleno’s Flames thrummed happily in relief, in rejoicement, and Kawahira silently rose a fist in celebration, his other hand (and mouth) occupied with drinking the last bit of ramen broth in his bowl.

* * *

The Arcobaleno stared at the pacifiers in front of them, each silently observing the floating objects and multicolored Flames before them. After years, decades, they were free. Their Flames, not suffering the constant strain they had grown used to, licked the air visibly and stretched out, saturating the area.

“Now, we just need to get back to our adult bodies.” Verde adjusted his glasses, glaring down at his child-sized hand. “I should be able to figure something out to accelerate growth, though it may take several months-“

Reborn stared at his reflection in slight horror, not hearing anything Verde said as the Lightning continued. Should? Months? Accelerated growth? Trapped in this baby form for even longer, unable to reach doorknobs or shelves, or go shopping without being questioned, or pick up women, or drink alcohol, or _speak without that God damn lisp…_

“Hell no.”

A blaze of bright yellow Sun Flames forced everyone to turn away, shielding their eyes from the light that had suddenly enveloped the World’s Greatest Hitman without warning.  When the Flames died away, they revealed a black-haired man in his mid-twenties, two curly sideburns and a large, green lizard wrapped around his shoulders.

“Chaos.”

Verde deadpanned at the sight of the fully-grown man where there had been a toddler moment before. “Or you could be a cheat like Reborn and use insane amounts of Sun Flames. Either works.”

Reborn took a step forward and then stumbled, looking down with a frown at his slightly shaking legs. “This is going to take some getting used to.”

Verde nodded smugly. “Cheaters never prosper.” Before the hitman could retaliate, Tsu-kun stepped forward and touched a blazing orange hand to the Sun to harmonize the other with his own body and surroundings, thereby removing the issue of the contrast between perception and muscle memory.

Verde glowered. “Unless there are better cheaters to help, apparently.”

Reborn smirked and tipped his fedora. Leon just rolled his eyes and yawned, settling in for a nap on his hitman’s shoulders. This was much warmer than his hitman's silly hat.

* * *

By the end of the hour, the Arcobaleno had been fully restored to their adult forms.

Fon was heckling Kyo-kun endlessly, mocking the carnivore for finally being shorter than the Storm. The Cloud growled without any real heat, knocking Fon’s hands away with quick swipes of tonfa whenever the Fon decided to poke or hug the younger. Byakuran figured this was the side of the Eye of The Storm that only came out around family, or when the other was extremely excited. It certainly explained Kyo-kun’s constant exasperation with his uncle.

Mammon had drifted back over to the Varia and was being harassed by Belphegor. The Bloody Prince was exceedingly smug about remaining taller than the Mist and was hanging from them, gesturing wildly with his hands as he talked. (Probably planning prosperous genocide, Byakuran guessed.) The rest of the Varia were acting apathetic, but anyone who knew them and was properly observant could tell that they were just as pleased as their youngest member. Especially considering they were crowded so close to the already exasperated Mist that Lussuria had her arm wrapped around their waist and Xanxus was pressed to the illusionist’s back while they talked.

Skull was jumping up and down, doing flips and bouncing spastically, clinging and babbling happily to anyone nearby. Enma and Tsu-kun laughed at the enthusiastic Cloud before the purple haired man pulled out his miniature bike, propagating it to adult size and zooming off to go find somewhere to let loose and try out his old daredevil stunts. (Byakuran privately noted that the look in Kyo-kun’s eyes at the other’s use of Cloud Flames was faintly worrying. He would have to put Sho-chan and Tsu-kun on wide alert for strange requests or disappearances from Kyo-kun in the future.)

Speaking of Sho-chan, his Sun was staring up at Verde while their Lightning friend was hanging from the green haired man’s shoulders, doing his best to measure the other man’s height without falling off. Verde himself was smirking down at them, glasses tilted precariously on the tip of his nose as the suddenly _much_ taller man secretly basked in their awe and attention.

Colonello and Lal Mirch were emerging from a corner – when did they even go there and how had they been unnoticed? Byakuran’s eyebrow steadily rose up his forehead as the blonde rain kneeled, pulling a small box out of his pocket. Everyone watched in stunned silence as the lid of the box opened, revealing a beautiful (“Expensive!” muttered Mammon, with hearts in their eyes) golden ring with a diamond in the middle and sapphires on either side. The scarred Rain watched wide-eyed until Colonello began to fidget. In a swift movement, she plucked the ring from the box and slid it on her finger herself. Byakuran decided that he had seen enough when the two began to kiss.

(They found out later that the wedding ring doubled as an assault rifle and could shoot lasers. Verde claimed ignorance, but the blueprints were found in the file cabinet he shared with Spanner. Notably, the other Lightning kept his mouth shut and didn’t say a word.)

Amidst the chaos, Reborn stood next to Tsu-kun as always, one hand on the smaller Sky’s shoulder. The only difference from normal was their height. Tsu-kun smiled blindingly happily at the Sun, somehow keeping his smile soft and kind despite the sheer dazzling quality of it. Reborn returned it with one of his liquid, dark smirks, and Byakuran decided that it was worth coming back just for this perfect moment his Tsu-kun got to experience.

Amethyst eyes widened as a hand clasped his shoulder firmly, yanking him back. The Night Sky stumbled and crashed into Tsu-kun, who squeaked and tripped into Reborn’s chest. An unfamiliar laugh rumbled through the clearing, and Tsu-kun beamed even brighter at the smiling hitman supporting the two Skies.

(Byakuran was fairly certain that at least three people fainted and one died at the sight of the hitman smiling and laughing, but it was worth it.)

Tsu-kun grinned from the middle of the human sandwich, laughing along until the clearing was filled with smirks, smiles, and laughter.

Finally, they had their Perfect World.

* * *

**Omake:**

 

Two months later, Daemon Spade was feeding the pigeons out of sheer boredom. He didn’t approve of this generation of Vongola, but they _had_ managed to take over the world. Plus, they were all somewhat terrifying – even the redheaded brat whose family he had murdered – and he did not want to touch that. At all. Unfortunately, that left him nothing to do

“Ara? Kyo-kun, Mu-kun, look over there.”

If Daemon Spade had blood, it would have drained from his face. Oh no. Not him. Not the one even the others thought was terrifying. (And was that the youngest Lightning using the Night Sky as a jungle gym? What kind of crazy was this generation made of?)

“Kufufu, a copycat~? My, my, how rude. Perhaps we should teach this poor fool a lesson, hm~?”

“One pineapple herbivore is bad enough. _A melon-headed one is unacceptable._ Kamikorosu!”

The undead Mist ghost leaped from the bench just in time to hear it crunch and snap in half from the force of a tonfa. Before he could flee, Daemon Spade’s eyes widened as a glowing, indigo trident was thrust at his face.

“Oh shi-!”

From where they were watching on the roof of a nearby cake shop, Tsu-kun, Sho-chan, and Enma watched the beautiful chaos and violence unfold below them.

“Sometimes vengeance is sweet isn’t it, Enma?” Tsu-kun grinned brilliantly, kicking his feet against the wall childishly.

The redhead laughed, returning the impossibly bright smile as he took a bite and hummed happily at the cake. “Yes, Tsu-kun~ Almost as sweet as this cake!” The Sky and Earth shared a laugh, and the world was bright.

Next to them, the Sun shone happily as well, laughing before speaking in a tone laced with both exasperation and amusement. “Byaku-nii has been rubbing off on you two.”

The two shrugged unrepentantly, and the trio continued enjoying their cake as the last remaining threat to their happiness experienced the tender mercies of a Mu-kun and Kyo-kun tag team with something to prove.

Down below, Byakuran and Reborn smirked at each other and nodded in approval. They had taught their family well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, I made Leon an actual sentient character who thinks he owns Reborn. Yeah. That’s a thing now. #NoRegrets #WithMyDyingWill #WriteCrackAndFluffAsThoughIAmAboutToDie


End file.
